Here It Was, They Lit The Flame
by JemimaPearl
Summary: On hiatus.Grantaire has a determined and firey younger sister who discovers love,friendship,and life along with ther Les Mis characters.Musical based.No extreme flames,but constructive criticism is fine aand welcome.
1. Prologue

A/N- This is entirely musical based, so some events may not line up perfectly with the book. Also, this is my first real Les Miserables fic so don't kill me. I welcome constructive criticism, but don't murder me with negative reviews. Thanks.

**And now…**

Here It Was, They Lit The Flame 

By JemimaPearl

Prologue

"Here, they talked of revolution," Marius Pontmercy could still picture twenty or more men surrounding the table in the corner, debating what their next move should be. "Here it was, they lit the flame," Marius not only thought of the men's and women's passion for a liberated and equal France, but also of that night when Grantaire came with his sister and the first meeting between her and the leader, Enjolras, in the very room that Marius sat in now.

"Here they sang about tomorrow, and tomorrow never came."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N-  
brunette-barbie14-thank you so much, To get a review like that after only a prologue! I will try to update, but I can only every other week or so.  
Hope everyone likes the story. Remember to review! I own only Madeline, the rest are yours, Victor Hugo. Also, this is before Grantaire develops his drinking habit. JP  
**Chapter 1  
"Let me come!" An auburn-haired teenager both begged and demanded of her brother.  
"No, Madeline, no!" Grantaire yelled at his sister. "You are too young!"  
"I am fifteen, only a year less than when you started going to these meetings. And" Madeline added to her argument, "You are the one who told me how much help the women are for the effort." The young man, whose back had been turned towards his sister spun around to face her, a less than kind look gracing his face.  
"Women, Maddy, women help us. Not over-imaginative girls!" Grantaire could feel his patience running out. "This is war we're looking for! People will be hurt, killed. I cannot allow you to throw yourself into that!"  
"I know, and I'm willing to risk it." Grantaire was surprised at the fire raging in his sister's eyes and the look of sheer determination on her face.  
"But I am not." Tears welled up in the man's eyes. "Please, Maddy, do not do this. I swore to our parents that I would care for you after they were arrested." Grantaire knew he was more than overprotective of his sister, and he wanted for her freedom, which is why he joined the friends of the ABC, but he also wanted her safety, which is why he did not want Madeline involved.  
"Taking care of me includes taking care of my happiness, oui?" Grantaire nodded. "Then let me come, brother."  
"If, if you come," Grantaire spoke sternly to his sister, yet Madeline was internally jumping for joy. "You swear to God in heaven you will do as I say. If I say run, run. If I say go ahead even if I cannot, you go. Do you understand?"   
Madeline silently nodded her head and looked up to her brother, questioning if there was anything that needed to be done prior to their departure.  
"Go get changed." Grantaire said simply. Madeline gave him a questioning look. "Dark clothes. So we won't be seen." Madeline remained for a moment, worried about her brother's state that she knew was caused by her yearning to go to the meeting. "Go!" Grantaire reminded her, drawing her out of her concern.  
Madeline went to her small room to change, both excited and somewhat frightened (though she would never let Grantaire become aware of it) of what was ahead of her on that Parisian night in 1832 . An impatient Madeline paced the ragged carpet in the small flat that she lived in with her brother. Her musty grey skirt swished slightly with her every movement.  
"Can we go now, Grantaire?" The copper-haired teenager asked, rather irritably.  
"Yes, now we can go," Grantaire said, giving his sister the answer she had been looking for, as he put on his mud-crusted boots. "We had to wait for dark-"  
"So the piece-of-merde police won't find us," Madeline cut her brother off. "I know!"  
"There is to be none of that language, Maddy." Grantaire scolded, "You are engaging in meetings that are for adults only. If you want to be an adult in attendance, then you are to behave as such. Have I made myself clear?" He said, questioning Madeline.  
"I understand, but because I am now an adult, you have no right to call me a girl anymore. Now, do you understand?" Madeline used the situation to her complete advantage. She continued after seeing Grantaire nod. "Now then, I believe we have a meeting to attend, but silently please. We wouldn't want to be caught by the piece-uh I mean, the police, would we?" Madeline mocked her brother. Grantaire just watched the teen walk out the door, not sure whether he wanted to punish her, or laugh at her witty remark. Either way, Grantaire now knew that the young lady before him was no longer his baby sister.  
**Hey everyone, remember to review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N So, whaddya think of the last chapter? Remember, this is MUSICAL BASED and Grantaire is not yet alcoholic. By the way, even if characters have a particular accent, I'm not even going to attempt to write in accents. Not only does it save you the pain of having to try to read it, but it also saves me the pain of when everyone comes after me about how bad the accents are. (Yes when I attempt to write accents, they are _that_ bad.) Remember to review. Thanx. JP**

Chapter 2

Left, left, walk for two blocks, then turn right, left, in this alley, out the other, right, left. Within twenty minutes of following her brother along the dark, Parisian streets, Madeline had completely lost track of where she was. Her knowledge of the grand city was limited to what it looked like during the day. With the rumors of violence and revolution spreading among the lower class of Paris, Madeline had been forbidden to go out after dark by Grantaire. Tonight would prove if this restriction was for good reason, or not.

"Maddy, are you sure you want to do this?" Grantaire whispered to the fifteen-year-old. "Just say you want to go back, I'll see you back. Just say it and-" The young man was cut off by his sister, who had sheer determination within her eyes and heart.

"I am not going home, Grantaire." Madeline uttered, simply. Yet the six words were ladened with so much meaning. There was no return. Madeline knew she could never return to her somewhat naive, previous existence. Both she and Grantaire knew very well that the knowledge she would gain would not be remotely forgettable.

With that, Grantaire nodded and knocked on the door to the tiny building that now stood before the brother and sister.

Madeline could feel her heart pound within her chest as the click of the doorknob resounded in her ears.

"Who's it?"

"It's Grantaire, Bastien." Grantaire answered the shadowed man, Bastien, in the doorway.

"Who's this, Grant? She looks mighty pretty-" This time it was Grantaire's turn to cut someone off.

"This is Madeline, Bastien, my _sister_. Hands off, understand?" Bastien nodded. Madeline had to fight herself not to laugh at the look on this 'Bastien's' face. She also felt some pity for the poor man. Grantaire could be as imitating as anyone when he wanted to. Grantaire lead Madeline into the building.

What awaited Madeline behind Bastien was beyond anything Madeline had imagined, fore she had attempted to imagine the place her brother described on numerous occasions.

From what Madeline could see, there were four tables. At the nearest, women sewed clothing, presumably for the men when the time came to fight, which would come, Madeline knew. At the next table, women and boys, most of whom she expected to not even yet have deepened voices, by the look of them, were making what looked like small silver balls, bullets. No one sat at the third table, but guns and other weapons were stacked up. At the last table, men, at least two dozen of whom appeared to be not more than thirty-five years of age, swarmed the table. Madeline could not tell what they were doing,as there were so many blocking her view of the table.

"Maddy, go to that table, over there." Grantaire told his sister, as he pointed to the bullet-making table. "They will show you what to do."

Indeed, they did. The process of creating the bullets was not hard for Madeline to catch on to. A girl, Giselle, who was not much older than Madeline, showed Madeline, step-by-step, how to make a bullet. From he melting of the scrap metal, to shaping the melted metal into small spheres in the molds, Madeline managed it very well. When she completed her first bullet, she couldn't help but to be internally proud of her accomplishment. After repeating the steps Giselle had taught her, Grantaire called over to Madeline, causing her head to snap over to the direction of the fourth table. Se was somewhat surprised to see that the men had started to leave the table.

"Maddy, come here!" Her brother called. Madeline was somewhat nervous. Because Grantaire forbid her to go out without his permission and his knowledge of whom she would be with, Madeline seldom met new people. Yet, Madeline never held it against him, as these restrictions were for her safety. When Madeline reached the table, Madeline bowed her head. She was not quite sure if it was out of embarrassment or nervousness or both.

"Madeline, these are some of my friends. Corfeyrac," Grantaire said, as a tall man bowed slightly. "Lesgles," The next man bowed. "And this is our leader, Enjolras." Madeline had heard his man's name spoken many times by Grantaire. Grantaire had much admiration for Enjloras's ideas and dedication. When Madeline looked up at him, she was somewhat surprised at her initial reaction to his appearance. _He is very handsome, _she thought. The man that looked down at her was around the same age as her brother. He truly was what revolution would look like if it ever took a human form. He was fairly tall, very tall for the height-challenged Madeline. His green eyes were sharp and contrasted his pale skin and dark hair. He wore a belt the colors of the French flag knotted over his brown vest, coarse, off-white shirt, and stained pants. _No, do not think of that._ Madeline internally scolded herself. _You are here for France, not for suitors, which you've never wanted, anyway._ Try as she did to avoid thinking about the handsome man, she simply could not. She bent her head down in embarrassment and dipped into a scaled-down type of curtsy.

Madeline saw the man, Enjolras, nod his head and walk out the door that lead to the dark street. Not long after, Grantaire had gathered his and his sister's frayed coats and left, as well. Madeline still felt the red heat of embarrassment glowing brightly in her cheeks. _Do not think about him. There is no time for this foolishness. Think of the revolution, think of anything else. Do not think of him._ Madeline redundantly thought. She was thinking of him, the entire walk back to the flat, in fact. And, in another part of the divided city, Enjolras shared the same thoughts.


End file.
